


The Makeover (Part 1)

by WarmaCrewe



Series: Calliope High [3]
Category: Namesake (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Calliope High, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-06-17
Packaged: 2018-04-04 21:26:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4153533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarmaCrewe/pseuds/WarmaCrewe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Welcome back to Calliope High! It's been a rough winter break for Warrick, with Emma in France and having just gotten over being ill. But the toughest part of all? Not having suitable clothes. Fortunately Selva's on the case to get him in shape before school starts again.</p><p>This happens in January of the school year - a month before "My Bloody Valentine" and several months after "The Weirdo." Yay more out of order!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Makeover (Part 1)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stylishanachronism](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=stylishanachronism).



Warrick awoke to the weak winter sunlight hitting his eyes. Sunlight? Finally! He jumped up and sprang to the window. Heavy rock salt and ploughs had cleared up the street. He might be able to ride his motorcycle today.

He took several deep breaths. No pain. He still felt weak, but he definitely wasn't going to let that hold him back from getting out. He threw on a t-shirt and some pants, which immediately slid off. Warrick grabbed his belt, which barely held them up.

He took off his shirt again and looked at himself in the mirror. Warrick had always been slim, but he really looked, well, like someone who had just cheated death. He didn't own a scale but given how his clothes felt he must have lost a great deal of weight. He put back on his shirt and another thought clicked. It was short. Great. Not only was he super skinny, he had actually grown.

Most guys would be happy to be getting taller, but to Warrick his constant gains in height were an inconvenience. It was for this reason that he always bought clothing that was too big, reasoning that he would grow into them soon enough. His motorcycle jacket and shoes were the only exceptions, as his shoe size appeared to have finally evened out and he needed a decent jacket to keep out the wind. But he hadn't worn it in some time. He opened his closet and took it out. Ugh! Not again! The sleeves were way too short.

This was ridiculous. He was probably one of the least fashion conscious people of all, but Warrick had no choice but to accept that he would need to buy clothes before he got back on his bike. He couldn't risk freezing while he was just out of the danger zone with his illness.

He left his room and went directly to the kitchen. His appetite had returned full force, and he needed to put on some actual flesh to these annoyingly longer bones. “Selva?” he called, raiding the fridge for edible items, “are you around?”

“Mmmm hmmm” came a reply from the direction of the bathroom. “What do you want?”

“Can I borrow your car today? I need to buy clothes,” he said, sitting down to the kitchen table with a jug of milk and Lucky Charms, resolving to eat the entire box. He wondered when the Dufferin Walmart opened... would it still be packed with after-Christmas shoppers?

The bathroom door opened and closed with a slam, and Selva rushed into the kitchen. She stood before him, her eyes sparkling with excitement. What was up with her?

“Did you. Say. Buy. Clothes?” she asked, grinning widely.

Oh no.

 

***************************************

Warrick was leaning his head against the passenger's side window, listening to Selva hum along to what sounded like Beyonce on the radio. All this time at Emma's, he was finally learning popular music.

“Where exactly are you taking me, Selva?” he muttered.

“We're going to Queen Street. I think we'll start out with Zara to get you some basics and work from there.” she said, almost singing the words and beaming with happiness.

“Why would we go there? That's going to be so expensive. And crowded. Can't we just go to Walmart? They have 5 for $20 t-shirts.”

“For the last time, we are _not_ setting foot in that foul place. Look at you, Warrick! How do you expect to... oh, nevermind.”

“How do I expect to 'what' _,_ Selva? What?” he asked, but he already knew what she was going to say. Just wanted her to admit her ulterior motive aloud.

“How do you expect to get Emma to notice you when you look like this?” Selva said, bursting with frustration. “She isn't a supermodel but she always dresses well and she's _French_ , Warrick. French people are fashionable.”

“If clothes are so important to her maybe we aren't a good match then,” he huffed, folding his arms over his chest.

“We both know she isn't like that. But even look at Elaine. She's always on pointe, and she's a kid. Emma might not know it, but inside she probably has certain expectations about what somebody she dates will look like. And you want to date her, don't you?” she said, glancing over at Warrick with a smirk.

Well, she had him there. He sighed. “I don't want to change myself. Not like mom did for dad.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that we aren't mom and dad? Besides, this isn't changing yourself. This is letting who you really are shine through.” Selva turned the wheel and he found himself looking at a crowded pedestrian area. Her look changed to one of concentration, and he didn't want to argue just then.

“Warrick, you aren't the wicked prince of darkness anymore. You're the one that has changed, and I know you know that. Remember when we were kids?”

Of course he remembered. Mom didn't have a lot of money, but she always made sure that they didn't feel inferior to their peers, or look poor. He remembered eating a lot of soup as a child, and it wasn't until soon before she died that he realized that Adora had done without a lot of personal things so that he and Selva could have “normal” kids snack foods and nice clothes. Warrick didn't care, but Selva and his mom spent a lot of time picking out clothing. It was like their special game, getting the best quality for a good price. Maybe that was why these things were important to her now.

“Okay,” he said, and Selva squeed as she parked. “You can choose whatever you want for me today.”

“YES!” Selva leaned over and hugged him.

“But you only get until lunch, all right? I'm not spending the whole day being your dress up doll.”

He saw Selva's brow furrow and she looked up, mouthing words and seeming to do some internal calculation. Then she looked at him and smiled again.

“No problem. But you better walk fast.”

 

***************************************

“I look -”

“AMAZING!!” Selva screeched.

“I was going to say 'idiotic', but sure, 'amazing' is good. Amazingly stupid, that is.” Warrick grumbled.

“Turn around,” Selva commanded, and he obliged. He flinched a bit when she pulled the edge of his jeans, checking for fit. “Hmmm... we still need to go a couple of centimetres more in length. Do you even know how tall you are, Warrick?”

“Uh, 173?” he said uncertainly.

“Try 178, kid,” Warrick heard someone behind him say. He turned around again and saw a man with a nametag leaning against the wall, grinning at them. “That's how tall I am, and you look about my height. Would you two like some help?”

“Please,” Selva said gratefully. “Do you have this in small, but long?” she waved at Warrick. “He's getting tall but he's so skinny.”

“Well we don't have this sweater but we've got that one over there in long sizes. Why don't you both come with me?” he said, waving them to follow. Warrick hesitated a moment, but the man said “Just leave on what you have. You can throw the sweater over your t-shirt and we can check here.”

They followed the salesman, whose nametag read “Will.” He was slim, not as skinny as Warrick, but with toned arms. His reddish brown hair complemented his fair skin well, but might've been dyed by the look of the roots. He caught Warrick looking at him and winked.

“You really have the perfect build for our collections. Try these,” Will said, handing over a couple of shirts to him. His hand lingered on Warrick's as he passed over the clothing. To his surprise Warrick felt himself blushing.

Will was an excellent salesman. By the time they were done with the store, some high end deal with an Italian name, they had a veritable pile of clothes. Warrick gasped when he saw the total.

“Is this for real? Selva we can't possibly spend that much money on clothes!” he exclaimed, but Selva calmly handed over her credit card for Will to check them out.

“Warrick, first off it was your birthday last week, but second of all we are essentially replacing your entire wardrobe. And you know we can afford it,” she said evenly.

He still kept staring at the total. Maybe he could return some things later. Will seemed to anticipate this thought, though.

“You're making a good investment. These pieces are wonderful basics and layer well. The length will help if you're worried about growing out of them.”

“I guess so,” he said, staring blearily at the salesman's eyes. He felt dizzy as he stuck the receipt in the bag. Well, one of the bags. “Thanks for all your help,” he said looking at the slacks he was now wearing, still in a daze. _But then again, maybe this will make a difference with Emma_ , he thought. Yes. In that case, it was worth it. He breathed and smiled again to himself.

“It was truly my pleasure, Warrick.” Warrick glanced at Will, startled. Had he told him his name? But Will only gave him a sly sideways grin.

“If there is anything you need, here is my card,” Will said, holding out his hand. Warrick shook it, puzzled. Did all retail clothing salesmen at this store give out business cards? Was there something he was missing?

“Um, okay,” he replied, taking the card.

“I hope to see you again soon.”

“Uh, yeah. Have a nice day,” Warrick said, then felt the tug of Selva's hand on his arm, pulling him out of the store.

“Come on Warrick! We still need to hit Kenneth Cole. Thanks Will!” she said, not turning back.

As soon as they got out of _Milenzo_ Selva burst out laughing.

“Is something funny? Why are we stopping?” he asked, confused.

“Oh god, Warrick. You really are dense.”

 

***************************************

She'd been there for fifteen minutes, but Emma was still standing outside the bus entrance in the cold, well after she'd been dropped off at school. She could wait indoors, but she was too excited, shivering half from the chilly air and half from other feelings. Her family had only arrived the day back from winter vacation in France, but turned out anticipating seeing one's friends was the best way to beat jet lag. Even though every previous winter she'd been a zombie the morning after her return flight. Emma knew why she was practically jumping up and down this freezing January morning in the dim dawn. She tried, unsuccessfully, to push how ridiculous she was being to the back of her mind.

Agha had noticed though, and teased her.

“Looking forward to seeing someone, eh?” she asked when they got on the bus together that morning, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

“Oh, shush,” was the best Emma had managed in response. There was no point in denying things with her best friend. After all, Agha already knew all about her crush. And thought Emma was crazy. Well, there was no help for it.

Finally, she saw Selva pull up in her dented Toyota. With the roads the way they were, Emma hoped they'd be riding together. Indeed, as the passenger's side door opened, it was clear that she had driven with her brother that day.

 _Don't run to him don't run don't do it_ she thought frantically as she saw his face. Her fingers twitched. _Be cool._ Yep. She was gonna be cool.

Selva crossed to Warrick's side and seemed to be talking to him about something earnestly as they walked together to the school building. He nodded, and then finally, after what seemed to be ten million years, looked up and saw Emma. He smiled and waved. She gave a floppy wave back.

 _Don't run just stay here wait it's – what?_ Her thoughts abruptly turned as she took in what she was seeing. She'd been so concentrated on his face that she almost hadn't noticed. _La vache._

Emma gulped. Well, today would be... interesting.

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: “Namesake” is the copyright of Isabelle Melançon and Megan Lavey-Heaton. This story/art is licensed under the Creative Commons as a attribution, non-commerical work. No profit is being made off this piece.


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